I Know Who I Am
by rene3037769
Summary: Second Chances are something that don't come around often. And when they do come around, it is not always in a manner you could expect. One thing is certain, when a second chance comes around it should not be wasted. AU. Non-Canon. Darker!Harry. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Edited 3/11/17

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Sitting in his cupboard under the stairs of number four Privet Drive was a little boy, currently known as Harry Potter, who was thinking about his life. This would have been odd as the child was only five years old at the moment and most five year olds do not just sit and think about their lives, quietly or not. But this boy was different. He actually had a lot to think about.

One of the first memories he could remember, was of waking up in the hospital with no memories. The doctors had told him that they thought he was around sixteen or seventeen years old, but no older than nineteen at the most. Oh yes, he could remember being older quite well. What he remembered after waking up was not something that he would ever want to relive though.

Because he had no memories of who he was, the government had sent some nice people to 'help him adjust.' He now thought that it was more than possible that they had known that his memories had been taken from him. Some of the looks he had seen the government officials exchange now made a lot more sense now that he knew about magic and what it could do with someone's memories.

They had helped him set up in a small apartment and gotten him a job washing dishes at a local pub so that he would be able to buy food and such things that his stipend provided to him by the government would not cover. They had set him up with an online program so that he could get the education he was missing as they had no records for him and his tests showed he did not have much more than a fifth or sixth grade education. And they also had set him up for a Psych Evaluation...which of course led to him being seen by a Psychologist every week from that point on.

Apparently, whatever had happened to him before his loss of memories had had a detrimental effect on his psyche whether he could remember it or not. He knew that his life had not been all panda babies and daisies as he had more than a few scars on his body, none of which looked like something he would have gotten from being a 'rowdy boy,' but the way the government officials and the psychologist looked at him sometimes made him wonder just how much they knew of his previous life.

His Psychologist, a nondescript man with brown hair, was fond of telling him that he was normal and that he was adjusting well, but John (the hospital had named him John Smyth and it had stuck when he confirmed he did not know his name) had seen how the Psychologist would look away when telling him how _well_ he was doing.

He did not particularly like having information about himself kept from him, so he waited until the middle of the night one night and broke into the doctor's office. The information was about him, therefore he should be able to know what it was. It had been oddly easy to break into the office. No high tech security that he had to worry about or anything. Actually, the ease of which he had broken in to the office to read his file had made him question having the doctor as his Psychologist at all. Not that he had any choice in the matter.

His file was fascinating. His doctor had decided that he had what was called antisocial personality disorder and theorized that John was a functional Sociopath, though he had some traits that would tend to make the doctor think he was a borderline psychopath. It was apparently hard to distinguish between the two and the doctor thought that he was walking the line between-if such a line existed.

There was a lot of information in his file about how charming he was and how he could present himself as having a much better life than he was currently living. Apparently his doctor did not believe him when he told him that he was doing just fine and making lots of new friends. How perceptive of him.

Apparently some of the tests that his doctor would have him do had shown that he had a disturbing lack of empathy towards others and that he would be more than willing to take advantage of people if he was not being so closely watched by his doctor and the government. John had smiled at the little note that had been tucked into the papers where the doctor had written that it was highly doubtful that John would feel any remorse or guilt if the office caught fire-nor would he bother helping anyone else out of the building. there was even a document that theorized that John would be a likely suspect if there were ever a string of murders involving red heads or very old men with long white beards. It seemed like the doctor knew him better than he himself did.

His Sociopathy was blamed on whatever had happened to him before he had lost his memories, so they definitely knew something about his past. John had agreed that whatever had happened had probably affected him as he currently had no idea why he hated red heads or old men that looked like Santa.

He never said anything about reading his file and continued with his appointments as though he did not know what the doctor thought of him. He did take great pleasure though in telling him some of his thoughts about people and how useless they were. About how bored he was and how he felt the need for a bit of excitement in his life. He had found it amusing to watch his doctor eye him with trepidation, constantly worrying that he was going to go off the deep end. The man was a bit twitchy, do it didn't take much. John never really thought he would run off and start killing people so he didn't really understand why his doctor was so worried about it. It was a good thing to as his doctor would have probably been at the top of his list if he ever did get that urge and that would have gotten him into all kinds of trouble.

His life had taken another great turn when he had returned to his apartment one day and upon walking in, been hit with a red light that caused him to pass out. Waking up tied to a chair while a tall red headed man paced his little living room in a dress did not make him feel more inclined to like red heads…nor had the information he had gleaned while the red head ranted about how much _his_ life sucked.

One of the things he had learned was that he used to be called Harry. The red head (Ron apparently) constantly called him that throughout the rant. What was more interesting was that even _that_ was not his real name.

Ron apparently blamed him for his sucky life as he had put in a lot of effort befriending the Boy-Who-Lived, only for that not to have been worth anything when the Harry he had befriended had defeated the Dark Lord and the _real_ Harry Potter had come out of hiding with his very much alive parents.

Had the boy not mentioned how he had gotten some of his scars while ranting, he would have though he was completely nuts. He was still not paying too much attention to the boy until he had mentioned that an alive Dumbledore (He was not quite sure who that was) had bound his magic and wiped his memories before sending him out into the muggle world.

It was the fact that the red head thought that this Dumbledore person was responsible for the loss of his memories that made the then called John pay more attention. Thankfully, the red head was so focused on his rant that there was not much that John had to say to keep the information coming. The thing he most got from the rant though was that someone had used him. Used him and then thrown him away like trash. If he had died in the process then so be it.

If he could tell his Psychologist right then what he was feeling it would have been easy to put into words. He felt rage.

The red head kept talking more about his sucky life. Most of which John was ignoring as unimportant. He honestly did not care at all about the other boy's life. The red head had apparently married someone called Hermione, and he had just found out that she had been taking potions to abort anytime she got pregnant. John could see why she would not want a child with the red head, but could not understand why she just would not take birth control instead. (Of all the tests that he had taken he had never once condoned the death or injury of a child-something that was a relief to his doctor if his file was anything to go by.)

Finally, after hours of ranting the red head came to the point. He had apparently been on his way to his wife's office to surprise her with dinner when he had learned about the abortion potions, which his sister was supplying, when they had started to talk about a potion she had been working on. It was restricted due to the fact that it was capable of sending someone back into their younger body so that they could relive their lives. She had been hoping to make a potion that would allow for time travel to gather information about lost civilizations, but now that she had created this potion her research was being scrapped by her department head.

From what the red head was saying she was supposed to be working on something called a time-turner instead as they had all been destroyed, and she was in trouble for working on the potion without supervision.

Ron, in his apparent idiocy, had decided that he was going to steal the potion. He was unhappy with his life and thought…'this could be the answer'. John/Harry/Whatever was not sure if he was unlucky or lucky that Ron had second thoughts before taking the potion. He had not wanted to live though his childhood again because of his overbearing mother and brat of a sister, not to mention the fact that there had been almost no money when he was growing up.

All of that had made him decide to track down the boy he had befriended on the train during their first year. He was going to give the potion to him instead, and because he had his memories wiped he had needed to tell him a bit about the time before he had been cast out. Ron wanted him to know that he wanted nothing to do with him if they ever met in John's new life. It never crossed his mind that John could hurt him in this new life…and John wasn't talking at that point.

John had actually wanted to resist having the potion poured down his throat-he didn't really want to be a tester for a potion made without supervision, but Ron had used magic to make the process easier on himself.

Once the potion was down his throat the burning began. It felt like his veins had been filled with lava while his body had been rubbed down with balloons. He screamed despite the silencing charm that had been used to keep his neighbors from calling the police as the static feeling increased, never noticing that Ron had disappeared from the room.

He wasn't sure how long he had screamed while it felt like he was burning from the inside out, but he did remember that the pain stopped only to feel like he was being squished to death. The squishing went on for what seemed like hours, and he could not see anything that would allow him to know what was going on.

It was only when he was being wrapped up in a blanket, unable to control his cries that he realized what was going on. He had just been born…again. The stupid red head was right about the potion. It did not dampen his desire to make the red head pay for the pain…but at least he was alive.

While he was stuck in the body of a baby, he decided that it was not all that bad. For one thing, he could still remember being an adult. He had absolutely no control over his body, and he wanted to sleep all the time, but the memories were still there (Though they were more like fleeting images right now). Now he had the chance to make new memories of the things that had been taken from him. If he was sure of one thing at that moment it was that he was not going to allow anyone to ever take his memories again.

As he grew, he observed as much as he could-looking for all the world as any other curious baby taking in the world around them. Though he tried, he found that he could not force his body to develop much faster than he would have originally. The only thing that he really had going for him was that he was determined and that this time around he would be able to remember everything. (If his Psychologist had been able to hook his brain up to a machine right then it would have been lit up like a Christmas tree.)

While he did not know if he had an eidetic memory the first time around, he certainly had one this time. He had spent years meditating after waking up in the hospital in the hopes that he would regain some of his memories, and in the process of all that meditation had adopted a method similar to Sherlock Holmes in organizing his mind. He was never more glad that he had been bored enough to read the series and do research on his mind palace. He took in every bit of new information and stored it in the hopes that he could keep it safe.

His name was Rigel Kol Lestrange and his mother was…possibly crazy. He was not positive but she always seemed to jump from one subject to another and his father and uncle never allowed him to be alone with her in case she accidentally left him somewhere. He had heard the adults talking about a curse she had been hit with while in school, but he did not have a lot of information about it. She loved him though.

His father was the steady sort. He was always around, making sure that both Rigel and Bellatrix were alright. He would hold Rigel with this look in his eyes that could only be pride. His uncle was a lot of fun, always willing to sit on the floor and play with him. Rigel had to make an effort sometimes as his uncle seemed to keep an eye on how much he played for some reason. It took a while, but he was eventually willing to spend more time around the baby toys when he realized that they really did help him with his motor control. He did miss YouTube though.

His godfather was a whole 'nother ball of twine though. Rigel had looked though his own file enough to know a Sociopath when he saw one, and Rigel was fairly certain that his godfather was probably closer to that line between Sociopath and Psychopath than he was. He could seriously picture the man killing just because he felt like it. It was odd that he felt more in tune with this man than his own parents.

When his godfather had held Rigel for the naming ceremony, Rigel had spent the entire time in the man's arms glaring at him in an effort to get the man to understand that if he dropped him…he would making him pay. When he was older of course. That was probably the first time that Rigel had seen any amusement on the man's face despite the many hours he was over at their home. Apparently having a baby glare bloody murder at you is amusing to everyone.

He was almost a year old when his life changed yet again. He was kidnapped; actually kidnapped straight from his crib by two people that he only knew the names of because of his mother screaming. His mother and father had burst into the room, alerted by the instinctual cries of a baby that had been awoken abruptly. As curses had been exchanged, one yellow spell hitting his mother, he had heard her shouting curses at the Longbottoms.

Unfortunately, they had gotten away and taken him to a house where there were a few more people milling around. The conversation that had followed was one he would make sure never to forget. He finally learned who Dumbledore was and where he had gotten his aversion to old men with long white beards.

"Did everything go as planned? You have a child?"

"Yes, we were able to get into…"

"Wait. Do not say the family name. The less we know about where the child is from the less we can give away. So many dark children have gone missing that this will be lumped with the those same instances, and we have already managed to get the most of the populace to think that the darker families are getting rid of squibs. Were the parents cursed not to speak of the kidnapping?"

"Yes. They will never be able to say anything about the child again and no one will question them getting rid of a child if it is thought it could have been a squib. We didn't have time to change their memories to make them think it was a squib though."

"Good job, Alice. As long as they cannot speak of it we will be fine. Hand me the child." The old man looked Rigel over as he held him in his wrinkly old hands. "He is the right size for the switch, good choice you two. Lily, place Harry on the table."

A woman with long red hair laid a baby down right beside where the old man had laid him on the wooden table. Obviously he had been correct to dislike red heads as here was yet another one that was going to apparently use him for their own purposes.

"Alright, I will place a glamour on the child so that he looks more like your child." He waved his wand around for a few minutes while taking time to glance between the two babies from time to time. "That should do it. The only thing we need now is to get muggles to take your place in Godric's Hollow and the trap will be set. The Dark Lord will come for the child sometime in the next few months, so hopefully you will only be in hiding with Harry here for a little while."

"Albus, are you sure that faking a prophecy about our son was the best way to bait the Dark Lord?" A man with round glasses asked from his position beside the red head who had picked up her son and was rocking him from side to side.

"It is for the Greater Good, James."

Rigel was appalled when all four of the other adults bowed their heads and repeated 'For the Greater Good' as though it were their mantra. He very much doubted that his godfather ever had his followers do something so creepy…though he would curse them if they were being idiots. Still, cursing due to idiocy was less creepy than whatever this was.

He listened to them talk for hours before a black haired man pushed into the room with two bodies floating behind them.

"I see you were successful Sirius. Did you have any trouble finding people that would not be missed?"

"No, I had to wait until they were off on their own though, which is why it took me so long. I never knew that the homeless muggles tended to band together in packs at night." He allowed the bodies to hit the floor before he dropped into a chair. "They won't be missed though. I used some of the potion you gave me to have them answer truthfully."

"Ah, yes, Veritaserum is a wonderful invention." Rigel leaned over so he could see what was going on from the playpen he had been placed in earlier. The old man walked over and started casting spells on the muggles immediately. "And now all we need if for them to take the Polyjuice." He said after almost an hour of constant spell casting.

Lily handed her child to James before walking over and handing two very different vials to Dumbledore. "The red one is mine and the blue one is James. Are you sure that this potion is permanent with muggles?" She seemed to miss the look that Dumbledore gave her at the question…but Rigel didn't.

"I am sure. It will not be the first time I have seen the effects of this particular potion on muggles. An old friend of mine was the one that found that the effects were permanent on those without magic." With his follower pacified, he proceeded to feed the potion to the muggles on the floor. Soon there were two sets of Potters in the room, complete with baby. "Now, you should all head back home, Lily and James, you take Harry back to the cottage I put under Fidelius for you, Alice and Frank, thank you for your help tonight. You have made the world a better place by ensuring that the dark is not allowed to grow." When the couples had left, Dumbledore turned to Sirius. "You, my boy, still have work to do. You need to get Peter to agree to be secret keeper for these two. As soon as he has the secret, he is sure to tell his master."

Sirius simply nodded and disappeared though the doorway.

Dumbledore stayed long enough to cast a few more spells on the muggles before he disappeared with a pop. The muggles stood and seemed to think there was nothing odd going on, the woman that now looked like Lily Potter simply picked up baby Rigel and carried him upstairs for bedtime.

The following day, Dumbledore showed up with a dumpy little fellow that was named Peter or Wormtail and Sirius. Dumbledore cast as spell that he explained in detail to Peter would keep the Potters safe from the Dark Lord before all three of them disappeared again with loud pops, leaving Rigel to deal with fake Potters.

What followed was months of future therapy issues for Rigel. Living with fake James and Lily Potter had given him enough data that he could probably write a fairly good screen play for a horror movie. He certainly felt like he was living in one, and he had watched plenty of them to have come to that conclusion.

Whatever Dumbledore had done to 'program' them, he had obviously only programmed them in the basics to ensure that they cared for the child until his plan was complete. They acted fairly normal when Peter would stop in, but otherwise it was like living with some kind of pod people. They would see that he was taken care of and fulfill their own basic needs, and then they would simply freeze in place...for hours. They could remain in one place indefinably as far as Rigel could tell, unless something triggered in their minds that they needed to take care of him or themselves.

Thankfully he had been almost nine months old when he was taken, so he was able to move around on his own. Their general creepiness had ensured that he had plenty of motivation to actually take those first unsupported steps…which neither fake Potter even noticed in their inactive states or whatever they were doing as they stared vacantly off into space.

As time went on he tried his best to avoid catching the attention of the fake Potters as much as he could. It was simply easier to hide behind the couch with a book than have to deal with them. Every once and a while he would look at them and think to himself that it was no wonder he had so many issues once his memory had been wiped…especially if he had lived through this the first time around.

He had lived with the fake Potters, in mostly silence, for months when they startled him with sudden action action. As soon as they heard the gate outside open, fake James sprang up from the couch and told fake Lily to take Harry and run because _HE_ was here. Rigel had been completely startled by the sudden noise and then by fake Lily scooping him up and running upstairs, where she then preceded to creep him out even more.

As soon as they heard the thud of a body hitting the floor downstairs and then footsteps on the stairway and hallway, she began to brush the hair away from his forehead despite his trying to get out of her reach. She then proceded to continually repeat how much 'mummy loves you' and how everything was going to be alright. Seriously _...what the hell?_ It was like she was stuck on creepy repeat mode and it was beyond disturbing for someone with the mental capability to know it was fake.

When the door burst open she stood between Rigel and his godfather, who was wearing a glamour he had used once when he had tried to scare Rigel as a baby. While his mother and father had laughed at his disgruntled look his godfather had impressed when Rigel had just glared at him again. Kind of like what he was doing now.

For the first time in months, Rigel wished he had practiced speaking more. He had avoided making much noise as he hated having the fake Potters 'wake' and give him attention. It would have been handy though to tell his godfather who he was. Instead, he was stuck glaring at the man for not knowing who he was instinctually while he killed the fake Lily. Shouldn't the man be able to tell or something?

The Dark Lord had just raised one brow at the glare before he had pointed the wand at the child and whispered a spell that speed towards Rigel in a flash of dark blue. Now he did not know what _dinistrio'r bygythiad i'r tywyllwch_ meant, though he doubted very much that it had anything to do with dinosaurs, but he did know that it hurt. After a few moments where it felt like the magic was digging deep into his body, it rushed back out and towards his godfather. Right before the spell hit he saw his godfather's eyes widen and heard him whisper 'Rigel?' It was about time...though a little bit two late.

Rigel didn't remember anything after that, until he came to with the man named Sirius glaring down at him in his crib. His entire facial expression changed immediately when the biggest man Rigel had ever seen entered the room with tears running down his cheeks.

"Oh, it's you Sirius. I just can't believe it. Not James and Lily Potter." The huge man used a huge handkerchief to blow his nose noisily.

"I know." Sirius did not seem to know what else to say as he looked at the body that was a placeholder for his best friend's wife. "Why are you here Hagrid?"

"Dumbledore sent me to take little Harry to him." Two huge hands were used to wipe away the tears that were still rolling down his cheeks. "Good man, Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore, right. You take…Harry to Dumbledore. You can borrow my bike. I have something I need to take care of." Sirius quickly lifted a silent Rigel and handed him to Hagrid before leaving the room without saying anything else.

Rigel then had to endure a nauseating ride on a motorbike that actually _flew_ , while the large man simply held him in the crook of his elbow. Rigel ended up staying as still as possible in the attempt to prevent a situation where he could easily been dropped. He didn't bother looking around until they had landed and the large man took him into what appeared to be a castle.

They met Dumbledore in a hallway and Hagrid did not notice anything odd as he handed the child he was carrying to the old man before he was told to get something to eat in the kitchens. Rigel however, noticed that the suggestion to visit the kitchens was accompanied by a little wand waving.

Dumbledore then carried Rigel into what appeared to be his office, where Lily and James Potter were waiting with their Harry Potter sitting on his father's lap and slobbering all over his robes. Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured a play pen beside his chair before he deposited the baby and sat down.

"What are we going to do, Albus?" James asked quietly.

"We continue, my boy. The plan is not finished yet, but it is still useful. Right now the wizarding world is already singing the praises of your son. While Lord Voldemort is not gone for good, neither is the child that is playing the part of your son. We will just have to see this through a little longer." Dumbledore looked at the two adults in front of him for a moment before continuing. "It is for the Greater Good, my boy."

Both nodded and repeated "for the Greater Good" before Dumbledore continued.

"Now then, you two and Harry must stay in hiding until Lord Voldemort is truly dead. Hopefully the child will die at the same time, but if he survives again, we can always wipe his memory and bind his magic like the children we have passed off as squibs over the years. I think it would be best to send this child to your sister Lily. She hates magic and will ensure that he is humble and easy to manipulate against the Dark Lord when he receives his Hogwarts letter. I will then be able to use the boy to bait Lord Voldemort into a confrontation again. Once they have both been taken care of, you can reenter society and Harry can take the place of the fake."

Lily and James exchanged a look before nodding their heads in agreement.

"We need this to look as real as possible, so I will take up the position of Harry Potter's Magical Guardian. I will go to the bank and move some Galleons to a new Vault that will be for your personal use. The majority will remain in the family vault, and of course the family vault will be used to fill the heir vault when there is a withdraw."

"Isn't that a bit risky? What if the boy spends all of our money before we are rid of him?" James looked worried.

"I doubt the boy will be able to spend much of the money. I will have the keys and will ensure that they stay in my possession or at the very least that he has no opportunity to go into Diagon Alley himself. We will plan more once I get the child over to your sister's. I will have Hagrid take him there as I am fairly sure that Minerva is already there. I do not want her to know that I have already seen the child tonight."

Nothing much more was said before he was once again handed off to the huge man and flown over the countryside. It was only slightly less nauseating the second time. Rigel then had the dubious pleasure of being left on the doorstep of a very normal looking house. It was hours before exhaustion forced Rigel into sleep, something he wanted to avoid just in case a pack of rabid dogs came this way or something. He was not allowed to sleep for long though, as he was abruptly awoken by the shriek of a horse faced woman. Not to long after that, he was shoved onto a crib mattress that had been placed in the cupboard under the stairs and mostly forgotten about.

For the most part, the next few years were spent with Rigel ignoring the Dursleys and them ignoring him. Lately, however, Rigel had noticed that the looks they were giving him were changing. A normal child would not know what that look was, but Rigel did. He could see the hatred growing in their eyes now that he was about to start school and it would be harder for them to ignore his existence.

Turning his attention to the door of his cupboard, he could hear Petunia moving around in the kitchen. Smirking as he pushed open his little door, Rigel prepared to confront his 'aunt.' It was time to make a change. This time around he would do things his way.

 _My name is not John Smyth; it is not Harry James Potter._

 _My name is Rigel Kol Lestrange, and this time…I know who I am._

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dinistrio'r bygythiad i'r tywyllwch - destroy the threat to the darkness- google translate Welsh to English.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Rigel smirked as Petunia Dursley placed a thick cream colored envelope in front of his breakfast plate. Vernon paled when he saw the letter and Dudley never even bothered to take his eyes off of the television playing cartoons in the corner. Rigel finished his piece of bacon before he picked up the envelope and ran his finger over the name on the front.

 _Harry J. Potter_

 _Second Largest Bedroom_

 _4\. Privet Drive_

 _Little Whinging, Surry_

On the back of the envelope was a wax seal with the crest of the school stamped into the red wax. Rigel glanced up at Petunia, who was watching him warily, as he pulled the envelope open to view his acceptance letter.

The first page was a general acceptance letter signed by the Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. A woman that Rigel clearly remembered being present the night he was left at the Dursleys. The second page contained the supply list that all students were required to buy before attending Hogwarts. He had been waiting for this for a long time.

"Aunt Petunia, it looks as though I will be leaving you soon to go to school." He spoke slowly in an even tone with what some could call an angelic expression on his face. Petunia knew better.

"How lovely, dear. Do you want more bacon?" She said nothing about magic or about his leaving. Vernon just continued to watch in silence.

"No thank you. I think I will take the letter to my room and write my response. Did you not tell me that they send a teacher to introduce children raised _muggle_ to the shopping district?"

Petunia flinched. "They did with Lily. Perhaps you could request a teacher's visit when you write your response. I don't know that I would be able to find the place myself."

"I will do just that Aunt Petunia. Though I will have to hope that they send an owl I could use. If they do not, we may have a bit of an issue." He ignored how she flinched again when he stood from the table and collected the letter before leaving the room.

As he made his way up the stairs and to his room, where he took a seat at his desk under the window, he thought about how his life at Privet Drive had changed after that morning when he was five. He owed everything that came from that confrontation to his love of horror movies during his first life.

It was absolutely amazing how much fear you can incite when you tilt you head just so and tell someone how easy it would be to make their family smaller. To trim the fat, so to speak. Coming from a child that can look innocent while explaining just how they would trim that fat made it much scarier for Petunia.

When she had threatened him, he had pointed out that he was alone with Dudley quite a bit, and she could not watch them all the time. She couldn't get rid of him since Dumbledore would just bring him back again as proven from when she tried to take him to an orphanage.

Though he had scared her a bit, she had not believed him. What could a five year old do after all? So he spent some time locked in his cupboard for the first time. While he was locked away, he was planning. He didn't plan on killing them, just making sure that they could not hurt him. If they got hurt making sure that he didn't, he was alright with that.

Three days later, Dudley got sick. While Rigel had been surprised by the sickness he was quick to take advantage of the situation that had presented itself. The look of horror on Petunia and Vernon's face when he had told them that Dudley would eat _anything_ was absolutely priceless. They had no doubts that he had poisoned their son, despite the fact that he had been locked into his cupboard. They just figured he had used his freakishness to get it done.

When they had taken Dudley to the hospital, Rigel had been sure that the stupid pig would only have the flu or something, putting him back at square one, but happily enough, he had food poisoning. Without having to put forth much effort at all, Petunia and Vernon Dursley were petrified of him.

Their fear of wizards and witches kept them from saying anything to the hospital staff at that time, they did eventually try and have him looked at by a Psychologist. Their fear only grew when the Psychologist only told them that they had a bright young nephew that would probably be able to skip a few years of schooling. Who knew that breaking into his Psychologist's office and reading his file would turn out to be so useful? As far as this one was concerned, he was a great kid.

Needless to say, his life took a turn for the better at Privet Drive. He had been moved into what was then the guest bedroom, as it had a small attached bathroom complete with small walking shower. Vernon was too big to use the shower and so the room had been slated for guest use instead of being a master bedroom. For the Dursleys, his having that room ensured that there was even less time that they would have to interact with them.

While she had hated the wizarding world for taking her sister away, she was desperately hoping that her nephew would enter that world and never come back. For this reason, she purchased a few fountain pens, those with ink reservoirs and those that were simply dip pens, some inks, note pads with lines for practicing hand writing, and a few books on calligraphy. The only thing that she could really remember her sister practicing at home was writing with a quill.

Instead of entering him into the same class as Dudley they had insisted on having him take placement tests. Rigel did not really care to go to school yet again as he could still remember having to go back once he had his memories taken away, so he fully intended to skip a few years. Well, as many as he could really.

When the test returned that he could enter into second grade or even higher, the school had put forth the suggestion that Petunia home school him. They simply did not have the facilities to work with a 'prodigy.' Petunia had not wanted to, but decided that it was for the best when Rigel told her that he could spend most of his time at the library.

Petunia had Vernon send of the application for homeschooling, and Rigel spent his time in the library looking up whatever caught his fancy. He had already done all of the school stuff once and he really did not want to bother again.

At the end of each school term, he would go to a testing facility and test out of whatever year he was working on and the next one as well. Each time the scores came back Petunia received a letter telling her how well she was doing teaching her nephew at home.

By the time his letter had come from Hogwarts he was ready to begin taking college courses. It was not well known as he was being homeschooled, but there was quite a bit of talk about the prodigy in Little Whinging, Surry. Everyone in the little town knew the polite little boy that had finished with High School before he was eleven.

Rigel didn't really care. The only reason he continued with it was that it kept him from having to actually go to school, and it gave him an excuse to be at the library. Homeschooling was simply convenient.

Pulling a sheet of college ruled paper from his binder, he picked up an ink pen and began his letter.

 _Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,_

 _I would like to accept your invitation to your school. My Aunt had told me that teachers are sent to those that are raised in the muggle world, and I would request that the same be done with me as I too live in the muggle world. My aunt does not know where to get the supplies on this list._

 _Thank you,_

 _Harry J. Potter._

He wrinkled his nose as he wrote the name of the Potter child on the bottom of the letter. If the boy ever had to take his place in the muggle world, he better hope that Lily had taught him muggle education, because the muggles would expect a prodigy.

Finding a fresh envelope, he placed the letter inside and then when out the front door to look for an owl. While there were none in the front yard, there was a small brown owl in the tree at the side of the house. Rigel simply held up the letter and watched as the owl swooped down and snatched it out of his hand.

"That's done then." He wiped his hands on his pants leg before returning to his room. Now all he had to do was wait for a teacher.

Three days later, the Dursleys and Rigel were once again eating breakfast. They were startled however when there were three loud booms on the front door.

"Good grief. Is that someone's attempt to knock?" Rigel muttered as he got up to answer the door. The Dursleys were all looking down the hall as though an ax murderer was going to jump out at any moment in a clown suit. "Absolutely worthless." He muttered.

Opening the door and finding the same huge man that had taken him hither and yon after fake Lily and fake James were killed. Looking up at the man, he found he was still surprised at just how large he was.

"Can I help you?" He spoke softly.

"Why, it can't be little Harry, can it?" Hagrid's voice practically boomed in the silence of the neighborhood.

 _No, it is not!_ Rigel smiled calmly as he responded. "Why, yes I am. Do I know you?"

"I knew you when you were just a baby, Harry." He held his big hands apart as though to show how small he had been. "I'm the one that brought you to Dumbledore after…well. I am the Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts, here to take you for your school supplies. Rubeus Hagrid at your service."

"I see. Do you mind waiting a moment while I tell my aunt we will be away?"

"That would be fine." Hagrid was still smiling widely when Rigel closed the door and made his way over to his aunt.

"I will be leaving for my school supplies Aunt; I should be back later tonight."

When she nodded, he went and put on his shoes before joining the huge man on the front step. "I am ready Mr. Hagrid. How will be traveling? I do not see a car." He really hoped the man had not intended for them to fly again. Twice was more than enough.

"Just Hagrid will do. None of that Mr. stuff, and we will be going by Knight Bus." The large man stepped up to the sidewalk and held out his pink umbrella with a grin towards Rigel.

When a triple decker purple bus appeared before them with a pop, Rigel just smiled at the still beaming Hagrid and watched as he exchanged a handful of silver coins for their ride. Once they were inside, Rigel found a seat in an overstuffed armchair while Hagrid sat in front of him.

"Now hold on tight." Hagrid warned before the bus took off with another pop.

While he did not think the ride was all that pleasant, the only reason they were not crashing into a fiery ball of death of course being magic, Rigel did enjoy the look of queasiness that appeared on Hagrid's face after takeoff.

"Hagrid, what were those silver coins?" Rigel worked to keep a smirk from appearing at the groan that came from the large man.

"That is wizarding money. The silver ones are s…Sickles. The bronze ones are Knuts, and the gold…gold ones are Galleons." Hagrid tried to take a deep breath, but ended up wheezing a bit as the bus took another sharp turn. "There are…17…Sickles in a Galleon, and 29 Knuts…in a Sickle."

Rigel was sure that the man was going to lose his breakfast any moment now when the bus slammed to a stop. Hagrid released what Rigel thought was a whimper of relief.

"I never did like that Knight Bus much myself." He muttered as he got off the bus as steadily as he could.

Rigel looked around with interest as Hagrid led him through the dingy dining area of the Leaky Cauldron, barely paying any attention when Hagrid turned down an offer for his regular and turned green at the sight of the food the owner was carrying.

Once Hagrid had opened the entrance to the alley, Rigel made sure that there was a look of wonder on his face as he looked around. He had practiced in the mirror for weeks to get this expression down. He was interested in everything and wanted to go into every store, but he also wanted to look like a muggle raised Harry Potter at the moment.

Hagrid led him straight through the alley and into the Goblin run bank while telling Rigel that he would have been mad to steal anything from the Goblins. According to Hagrid, the only place safer than a vault at Gringotts was Hogwarts.

Rigel paid close attention as the key to the Potter Trust Vault was presented along with a letter and hushed conversation about something in Vault 713. He asked nothing as they were led to the carts and then down into the tunnels. At their first stop, a very green Hagrid instructed him to grab a handful of Galleons and place them into a small bag the Goblin produced. Their stop at Vault 713 was also fairly quick as Rigel just watched as Hagrid tucked a small packet into one of his many pockets…the one right next to where he deposited the Potter key.

The next few hours were positively boring for Rigel. Hagrid had left him alone while he was getting his robes so that he could recover from the Knight Bus and the Goblin Carts. Madam Malkin's was practically deserted, so it did not take him long to get a few robes and then head off to find Hagrid.

Hagrid then led him around the alley and encouraged him to buy the cheapest things on the market. Rigel was fairly sure that someone had told the huge man that he would need to be very careful with his money. The only thing that Rigel insisted on spending more money on was a trunk. He had paid five extra Galleons to have it shrink with a wand tap so that he could carry it in his pocket. When Hagrid protested the extra cost, Rigel told him that it would be easier to carry around in the muggle world and handed the Galleons over to the man at the register. Hagrid simply led him off to get his wand.

Ollivander's was…interesting. He was a creepy old man for one, but what really caught Rigel's attention was the fact that he could feel some of the wands he was handed making a connection with his magic, only to have the wands ripped out of his hand under the supposition that he was a 'tricky customer.' Eventually the old man came and handed him the brother wand of the Dark Lord while telling him that he was going to do 'great things.' Yeah, the man was nuts.

After a brief argument with Hagrid about getting him a pet, which Rigel was finally able to get the huge man to relent only after telling him that he was afraid of birds and his aunt was allergic to cats…and he did not want a toad, Hagrid finally decided that it was time for them to get Rigel home.

Rigel stopped the large man outside the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hagrid, I can see myself home, I do it all the time. Thank you for taking me to Diagon Alley." Rigel threw his arms as far around the large man with a big grin.

"Well now, are you sure?" Hagrid patted Rigel on the head as he looked down at the small boy with a smile.

"Sure. I know you didn't like the night bus, and I come here all the time to that book store down the street. My aunt shops here, you know."

"Well, alright. I think I will just floo to the Three Broomsticks for a bit of a pick me up then. I'll be seeing you soon Harry." Hagrid patted him on the head again before heading back into the Leaky Cauldron.

Watching the man disappear into the pub, Rigel allowed the beaming smile on his face to turn into a smirk before he turned and headed to a small cafe to wait for enough time to pass for him to reenter the pub without risking running into his guide.

Finding a table and ordering a sandwich and cup of tea, he waited until the waitress left before emptying his pockets. He sat his trunk and money bag on the table before reaching into his other pocket and holding a bronze key and little paper wrapped packet in his hands.

"Oops." Rigel returned everything to his pockets and ate his sandwich while thinking about what could be in the packet. He wanted to wait until he was alone to open it though. Originally he was only going to take the key, but the way Hagrid had acted about the mysterious packet piqued his interest and Hagrid was ridiculously easy to pick pocket; as skill that he had picked up after his memories had been wiped and then kept up once he had been reborn.

After finishing his meal and paying, Rigel decided that it was safe enough to head back into the alley. It was only mid-afternoon, so he would have no problems in getting things done.

No one paid him any attention as he made his way through the pub and then through the alley. He was quick to make his way back to the bank and then up to one of the free tellers, the same one that had taken the key to the Potter Vault before. Now the Goblin was looking at him with what Rigel would assume was interest.

"Yes?" The Goblin said nothing else as he stared down his long pointy nose at Rigel.

Rigel was thankful he had an eidetic memory and could remember the name of his parents Account Manager. "I would like to speak with Bloodaxe."

The Goblin gave him a long look before placing a sign in front of his station and hopping down from his stool. "Follow me." Five minutes of walking through twisting halls and corridors brought them before a large wooden door, that looked like many of the others they had passed along the way. Opening the door, the Goblin spoke in Gobbledegook for a moment before showing Rigel in.

Rigel waited until the door was closed before he fully turned his attention to the Goblin sitting behind the desk.

"You asked to speak with me, little wizard?" Bloodaxe looked across his desk at Rigel with what Rigel figured was no expression for a Goblin. It still looked menacing, but he was not grinning, snarling, or frowning.

"Yes, you see, we have met before." Rigel watched as Bloodaxe tilted his head to the side and looked him over. Gesturing for Rigel to take a seat, he showed his teeth. "I don't remember such a meeting as I am not the Potter Account Manager."

"And I am not Harry Potter." Rigel smirked when the goblin sat up straighter and looked at him even more closely. "Tell me Bloodaxe, do you know what an eidetic memory is?"

"Eidetic? I am not familiar with this term." Bloodaxe finally said.

"I think that it is mainly a muggle term. What it means though, is that I remember everything. I remember what I ate last Friday for lunch, I remember my fifth birthday, I remember my parents bringing me to you so that my magical signature could be added to their family vaults. I also remember being kidnapped and put in the place of the Potter child."

Rigel could see that Bloodaxe was gripping his quill so hard that it would have snapped had it not been made of metal. As it was, the Goblin's knuckles were white with the force he was using.

"I will of course require proof. What is your name, then little wizard."

Rigel smirked. "My name is Rigel Kol Lestrange."

Bloodaxe just stared at him for a moment before he put his quill back on his desk and walked over to a cabinet. He quickly pulled out a parchment, a dagger and a vial of green potion.

"I am sure that if you do indeed remember…everything…that you remember my taking some of your blood as a child to register your signature. To reveal what vaults are registered under that signature, you must now place three drops in this potion and then pour the potion over this parchment."

Rigel said nothing as he took the items and followed the directions. While he had been expecting his family vault to show up (the Lestranges did not bother with a Trust Vault) which he could remember was vault 131, he was surprised to find vault 1103 listed on his parchment as well as Vault 123.

"Vault 1103 and 123, what are they?" Rigel looked up at the Goblin who was looking at the parchment with interest.

"We set Vault 1103 up with the magical signature we found at Godric's Hollow after the 'defeat' of the Dark Lord. Within hours of the news breaking, Gringotts was receiving mail and bequeathments for the Boy-Who-Lived. Gringotts removed everything that carried harmful spells, curses, potions and portkeys before storing everything as per our treaty with the ministry. The same technique was made to create a vault for the Dark Lord, though we do get less bequeathments intended for him." Bloodaxe had a feral looking grin on his face as he talked about creating a vault for the Dark Lord. Vault 123 is the Black Family Vault. With the death of Walburga Black with no living or heir the assets of the family go to the next in line. Sirius Black had been disowned years ago so was not eligible. You are the son of the oldest daughter of Cygnus Black the Third and Druella Black née Rosier, therefore it falls to you.

"Interesting, that was unexpected. I have a few things that I need to take care of though before I can think of going through whatever is in there. Dumbledore placed some sort of glamor on me that I would like removed. I have no intention of pretending to be Harry Potter when I know perfectly well who I am. Is there a way to get my parents here?"

The Goblin froze with his metal quill still posed for the notes he was taking. He looked up slowly before putting the quill back down. "You do not know?" When Rigel just stared at him tensely he sighed. "Of course you do not, you were kidnapped. Your parents and your uncle are all in Azkaban right now for the torture of the Longbottoms." He did not try to make the information easier to hear.

"The Longbottoms as in Frank and Alice?" When Bloodaxe nodded and raised a brow, Rigel continued through gritted teeth. "They were the ones that took me, and from what they were saying, I don't think that I was the only child they stole. I am fairly sure that they were binding the magic's of children and passing them off as squibs while spelling the parents to never speak of the children again."

"I see, that is disturbing information indeed. I will have to let Ragnok know that unclaimed vaults will need to be locked down. Having heirs passed off as squibs could cause problems."

"How long have they been in Azkaban?"

"It has almost been ten years now."

"I see. I will have to think on that then." Rigel looked off at the wall for a moment. "What of the Lestrange and Black Vaults then? Do I have access?"

"You do. Neither the Lestrange nor the Black Vaults prevent heirs from taking control due to age. This is done by many older families in the effort to keep children from being used. As your parents are unable to take on the duties of the Head of the families, it then falls to you. It is then up to you to find someone that will be your mentor or guide. Once you take on the Head of House rings for the Lestrange and Black houses, you will be emancipated in the eyes of the law. The glamour can be removed before you accept the rings."

"Alright then. Before we do that, I have a question about the Potter Vaults." Seeing the Goblin raise his brow he continued with a smirk. "If I remember correctly, anyone who holds a key to the vault can make a withdraw. Is this correct?"

As I am not the Potter Account Manager, I cannot be sure without the key in question. However, there are families who set up their trust vaults in that way."

Rigel smirked as he pulled the bronze key out of his pocket and handed it over to a now smirking Goblin. Bloodaxe placed the key in a small box and read the receipt like parchment that came out of the small slot at the bottom.

"Ah, it looks like you memory is quite good indeed. You do have access to the vault connected to this key. It looks as though the Potters have the vault set up that every amount withdrawn is replaced by their family vault, unless the family vault falls to twenty thousand Galleons. Right now there is about five hundred Galleons in the trust vault and about Sixty thousand Galleons in the family vault."

"That is very interesting, Bloodaxe. Tell me, would it be possible to make a withdrawal from the trust vault into a trunk, and then have that deposited into the Lestrange vault?" Rigel did not want to have to worry about transfers between vaults being tracked.

"I suppose that we could do that, for a fee of course."

"Of course, please take that fee from the money removed from the Potter Trust vault and do so for each withdrawal until we reach the limit." Bloodaxe truly had a bloodthirsty grin as quickly wrote out instructions on a piece of parchment before dropping it into a box on his desk. With a quick flash of light, the parchment was gone.

"I am impressed by your revenge, little wizard."

"They had it coming from the moment they took me from my home with the plans of using me as Dark Lord Bait. They fully intended for me to die and they still do. The least I can do to them is take their money. How can I have the glamour removed?"

"That request I sent off was for the transaction and for a healer to be sent up as well as a runner to collect the Lestrange and Black Head of House keys. I also requested the accounts for the Black family. It was not one of mine, but will fall in my preview as I am senior to the Black Account Manager." He stopped talking as the door opened and a Goblin in a white coat came in. "Ah, Healer Brokentooth, my client here had a glamour placed on him as a child that needs to be removed, also please check for any other foreign magics."

Rigel sat quietly while the healer worked. He could feel his hair grow to his shoulder blades but otherwise didn't feel any different. Once the Healer was finished, he conjured a mirror and Rigel looked at his true face for the first time. He looked a lot like his father and uncle. His features were sharp and regal looking. His eyes were icy blue instead of bright green now. He could see his mother in his nose and chin. Thankfully his hair was not as wild as hers. It would be easy to pull it back into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck.

He looked away from the mirror when his Account Manager spoke. "Well, you certainly look like your parents child now. Healer, was there anything else besides the glamour?"

"Yes and no. There was a small bit of foreign magic preventing the scar on his forehead from healing. That seems to be its only purpose. I can also detect some type of mental bonding magic. It looks a lot like a twin bond. Whoever he is connected to obviously connected their magic while casting a spell, but other than a bond that was all that was present."

Once the healer finished his report and left, Bloodaxe turned towards Rigel. "Do you know who the bond is to?"

"I think so. The only thing I can think of is the night my godfather came to kill Harry Potter. I looked up the spell he used and it translated to 'destroy the threat to the darkness,' I remember that it felt like the magic was digging through me before it turned back on him. For a split second he knew who I was, so it is possible that the bond was made then."

"I suppose that would make since. I highly doubt that a child of the Black and Lestranges and godson to the Dark Lord would be much of a threat to the Dark." Once again they were interrupted as a Goblin ran into the room and presented two boxes to Bloodaxe before he left just as quickly. "That Goblet will forever be a runner if he does not calm down." Bloodaxe sighed. Opening both boxes and turning them towards Rigel he instructed. "Take both rings and place them on your ring finger on your right hand. They will combine until such time you pass on the duties of your houses to your sons."

Rigel did as instructed and watched as the rings combined with a flash of light.

"Congratulations Mr. Lestrange, on your emancipation.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews and the interest in the story. I hope you continue to enjoy it. As with all my stories, please feel free to ask questions. I will do my best to respond though PM.

Happy Reading

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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Rigel smirked down at his ring for a moment before he looked up at his Account Manager.

"Now that you are emancipated and have control over the Lestrange and Black assets, where would you like to begin?" Bloodaxe had two very large ledgers before him.

"I am very interested in the Boy-Who-Lived- Vault. Is there some way that I can get an account from that vault? It would probably be best to absorb everything into the Lestrange and Black Vaults."

"I will request an inventory and also that all packages are placed in a Mokeskin pouch with an expanded space inside. The Pouch will be something you can use indefinitely; even after you go through the contents, and it will allow you to sort through those things we do not know what are on your own. Almost everything that was deposited into the vault was in a wrapped package of some sort. Once you have an accounting of that vault, you can indicate what you would like to move to whichever vault you wish. Once the vault is empty, it will be closed, which will save you some fees, and Gringotts will forward any new bequeathments directly to you after they have been checked for the usual. You can do the same with your own mail as well, for a fee."

"That does sound like it would be handy. Are there other options than using owls? I do not particularly want to send valuables through owl mail."

"We do offer mailboxes for the clients that have their mail screened by Gringotts. It is a box like the one on my desk and it has a mate in our processing room. Once mail is placed into the box, it will then appear in the mate. They were designed using vanishing cabinets as inspiration. There are security spells on each box in the processing room that prevent issues such as placing the wrong parcel in the wrong box."

Rigel nodded as he thought about the handiness of the mail box Bloodaxe was describing. "I think that I would like to utilize that service. Arrange for the fees to come out of the Lestrange Vault." Bloodaxe nodded and made a note in a ledger while placing another piece of parchment in his own mailbox. "Now, I also need to find out what my options are for school. I do not want to go to Hogwarts."

Bloodaxe looked up at Rigel for a moment before he spoke. "I had forgotten how young you are. Most parents come in when their children are about five years old and have Gringotts send the requests to the schools. It is done this way so that the schools know that the potential student's family can pay tuition. Hogwarts of course accepts a certain number of muggle-born children each year, which they screen to ensure that they can pay the fees before offering them a place. I can send off a request today for your acceptance and for a staff member to meet with you. Lestranges and Blacks have only ever attended Hogwarts and Durmstrang. Is it your intent to attend Durmstrang?"

"I don't know much about any of the schools to be honest. I really just don't want to be anywhere near Dumbledore or the Potters when they come out of hiding."

"I see. Durmstrang Institute is one of the other top and largest three schools in Europe. The others are Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Beauxbatons is a very…soft school. From what I have heard they have a lot of emphasis on etiquette and such. I have never heard of a Black or Lestrange going there. Hogwarts is a very Light school now that it is run by Mr. Dumbledore, but it was historically a school that taught the middle ground, so to speak. Durmstrang is considered the Dark school, though they do teach the same subjects that Hogwarts does. They also teach classes that are no longer offered here in Magical Britain, which is why it is considered Dark by the more Light minded."

"Where is it located?"

"It is located in the northernmost regions of Norway. Every child that attends school there is spelled with a language charm to ensure they can quickly learn to speak the most common languages of Scandinavia. These include Norwegian, Faroese and Icelandic which is spoken in West Scandinavia; Danish and Swedish which is more common in East Scandinavia; as well as German, Romanian and Bulgarian, which are also commonly spoken by students. Unlike Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, they take in a much more diverse group of children."

Rigel looked thoughtful for a few moments. "To be perfectly honest, the chance of quickly learning so many languages would immediately put that at the top of my list. Can you please arrange for my acceptance at Durmstrang Institute?"

"I will do so as soon as we have finished for the day. You will probably hear from them within three days." Bloodaxe was quick to make a few notes. "Is there anything that needs to be taken care of today?"

"I need a place to stay until I go to school. If my parents are in Azkaban, I am not sure if our home would be in good condition or even safe."

"I see. You could hire Gringotts to inspect and if necessary, replace the wards on Lestrange Manor. Once the wards are operational, you could have house elves get the house back in order. You do have access to the Black family home in London. The wards of the Black family have always been some of the best. You also probably have a few other properties as I am sure that some were bequeathed to you as the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Hn, I will have to see when I start sorting through the things from that vault. I am not looking forward to going through almost ten years of that sort of thing. How would I access the Black family home?"

"Your Head of House rings also act as portkeys to the family homes. Any new property you have can also be added with passwords controlling their access, or you could have a separate portkey to those properties. We can create those here once we have the deeds to the properties placed in your name properly." When Rigel looked a bit confused he explained. "A portkey is a method of instantaneous travel. When you are ready to activate them just say the name of the property. There are only two as of right now. Lestrange Manor on your Lestrange Head of House key and Black Manor on the Head of House key for the Blacks."

They were interrupted once again as another Goblin came in and handed two pouches and a box to Bloodaxe. Once the Goblin had departed, he handed the items over one by one to Rigel and explained what they were.

"This is your mailbox. As you have stipulated, the fees for the mail service will be deducted from the Lestrange Vault each month. You should expect the first of your statements to come within a few days. All mail addressed to the Head of House Lestrange or Black, and everything addressed with your name will be screened along with everything addressed to The-Boy-Who-Lived. As no one knows that we process the mail for that title, everything will placed in a new envelope and addressed to you with the word 'readdressed' written on the envelope. That way you will know that it was addressed to the title and you can keep others from knowing that information if you wish."

Rigel nodded and took the box.

"This pouch is the Mokeskin pouch with the items from Vault 1103, which is now closed. All un-packaged monetary gifts will be placed in the Lestrange Vault automatically as will any heirlooms that you do not need to personally unwrap, you do not get much this way, but it is possible during a will reading or such. You will receive notifications of all new deposits made to your vaults in this manner." Rigel nodded again before he was handed the last pouch. "This pouch is one that most Head of Houses carry. It is keyed into the magical signature registered as the Head of House on the vaults. Only you can access the money within. I had three thousand Galleons placed in there for now as I imagine that you need to purchase quite a lot in addition to the school supplies you will need."

"Perfect. Thank you Bloodaxe. I may be setting up an appointment with you before I leave for school. Otherwise, I will send a letter with any inquiries I may have."

"Very well. I will see that your acceptance letter to Durmstrang is sent immediately. Do not forget that they will probably contact you sometime within the next three days."

Rigel nodded as he stood and nodded his head politely to his account manager. "I will speak to you soon."

Bloodaxe stood behind his desk and nodded towards Rigel as he headed out the door. Once Rigel was back out on the streets of Diagon Alley, he thought about doing more shopping now, but decided against it as he had spent quite a lot of time in the bank. While not too late, he would feel rushed if he tried to get anymore done in the alley today.

Looking Down at his rings, he whispered. "Black Manor" and disappeared with a pop of displaced air.

When Rigel reappeared in the foyer of Black Manor, he landed in a heap and just laid there as he tried to get his bearings.

"Oh, gods, that hurt." He muttered, not expecting a reply. He quickly sat up when he heard a woman speaking in dry tones. It only took him a moment to find the woman in a very large portrait, looking down at him with disapproval.

"If you are going to land in an undignified heap on the floor, then yes, it should hurt. What on Earth are you wearing boy? Muggle clothing in my house? Must be spawn of the disappointment." As it looked like she was working herself up for a good rant, Rigel stood and dusted himself off before moving closer to the painting.

"Sorry about my appearance, I did not have much time to go shopping and I wanted to arrive before it got too late. I do not know who the disappointment is, but I am Rigel Kol Lestrange, Bellatrix is my mother and it is through her that I have access to the house." Rigel held his hand up to show his Head of House Rings.

Walburga stopped and stared at the boy before she could get worked up. "Rigel Lestrange? Bellatrix's son, but you went missing!"

"Yes, I was kidnapped and have only just returned to the wizarding world. I am sorry, how am I to address you." Rigel had one brow raised as he inspected the frame of the talking portrait. He could remember seeing portraits in his own home when he was still with his parents, but they had not been very talkative around him other than generalized baby talk with his parents.

After a moment of silence, she spoke. "Bellatrix was my niece, therefore I am your great-aunt. You may call me Aunt Walburga like she did." She made a face as she continued to look him over. "Now where have you been and what are you wearing?"

Rigel was about to explain when he heard the mutterings of an elf that had appeared at the top of the stairs. Before he could say anything or try and find out what he was muttering about, Walburga had called him over.

"Kreacher. This is Bellatrix's son. Rigel Lestrange. He is now Head of House Black. I expect that you will serve him well. You should find the boy something to eat and take it to the dining room." Once Kreacher had calmed himself from having a 'new great master' to serve and had disappeared, Walburga once again turned her attention to Rigel. "Now, the dining room is right through those doors. There is a restroom down the hall and to the left. There is a frame in the dining room, so you can explain while you are waiting on your dinner."

Rigel just raised an eyebrow at the bossy portrait before following her directions to the dining room. He had no intentions of being bossed around by a portrait, but did feel that it could be useful in the coming weeks.

Rigel settled at the head of the dining room table and began to give an abbreviated explanation to the portrait. About halfway through his explanation, Kreacher appeared and served him a simple meal of vegetable soup in a bread bowl while apologizing that there was not more. Rigel had to calm the elf down before he was able to finish his meal and his explanation.

"And that is why I appeared in my new home wearing muggle clothes." All though out his explanation he ensured that he referred to the Manor and the Black Estate as his. He had watched as the portrait version of his aunt had smirked each time, but felt that the message had been received when he had finished and she addressed him again.

"Well, that was not what I was expecting at all. It looks like you may make a decent Head of House. Kreacher will be able to serve you and help if you have any questions. Is there anything I can help with before I return to my frame?"

"Actually yes, is there a way for me to get the transcripts for my parent's trial?" Rigel was unsure as to how to go about such a thing in the wizarding world.

"There is no need. When I heard that they were being sent to Azkaban, I requested transcripts. I did the same when the disappointment had a trial. The transcripts were placed in the drawing room in one of the drawers under one of the display cabinets. They should be at the top of a pile. Any Black that has a court hearing or trial, we request the transcripts and place them together."

"Alright then." Rigel walked out of the dining room after getting directions from the portrait. He looked around in interest as he made his way through the home. It was in good condition, with the hallways being a small bit dustier than the dining room had been. It looked like Kreacher had been keeping up with the housework for the most part and it looked as though he would not have to say anything as he passed the house elf working diligently in one of the hallways to get the cobwebs out of a corner of the ceiling.

Rigel made his way up to the first floor where the drawing room was located, eyeing the house elf heads with interest. Upon reaching the first floor, he entered a long hallway with a smaller hallway branching off. Taking a quick peak in the room he found a very small library with the shelves stuffed with books and a small bathroom. Returning to the main hallway, he quickly entered the drawing room.

The room was just as large, if not a bit larger than the dining room. It was obvious that this was the main room used for entertaining guests. Across from the entrance was a massive fireplace that was large enough for a grown man to stand upright in, flanked by two cabinets.

He quickly made his way to the closest cabinet and opened the drawer that was underneath the glass portion. Unfortunately, this drawer held old copies of newspaper articles about family members. While he did not see the trial transcripts, he did find a bundle of clippings bound by a ribbon with his mother's name on it. He pulled the bundle out and placed it into his pocket before looking through the glass case with a small bit of interest.

The glass case held quite a few interesting knickknacks. After looking through the glass case, he stooped down so that he could open the cabinet door that rested under the drawer. The little storage space held a few larger items that would not fit in a display case as well as a box of candles meant for the candle sticks around the room.

Rigel made his way to the other side of the fireplace to repeat his search on the other case. He started at the bottom this time and found what appeared to be 'emergency' presents in the cabinet area. He found a few baby items and a few things that were clearly meant for different occasions. One bottle of Ogden's Firewhisky was labeled for political use. Rigel thought that this was a fairly decent place to keep such items and just nodded his head thoughtfully as he closed the door and began to look through the drawer.

He was relieved when he found the transcripts directly on top, and he only hesitated a moment before he pulled the transcripts for Sirius Black's trial as well. He could not figure out why he would have been arrested or placed in Azkaban if he was working with Dumbledore the whole time.

Slipping the documents into his pocket, he looked through the glass display case. It was filled with things very similar to the other case, and Rigel was already turning away when his eyes caught sight of something that clearly was not like the other curiosities.

There, on the center shelf was a necklace. Opening the door to the case, Rigel pulled the necklace out and raised a brow at the feeling that came off of it. He could feel his godfather's magic in the piece. As he was turning it over in his hands, Kreacher popped into the room pulling on his ears.

"Kreacher must destroy Master Regulus's locket. But Kreacher is not able to do it." This time Rigel was able to make out some of the muttering of the old elf.

"Kreacher. Where did you get this?"

Rigel ended up sitting on a couch underneath a family tapestry while he listened to Kreacher tell him about his last order from Regulus Black. Rigel's frown grew and by the time Kreacher was finished, he was clutching the locket so hard his knuckles were white. He could remember Regulus visiting his mother and holding him a few times before he had been kidnaped.

He finally interrupted the distraught elf. "Kreacher, I want you to listen to me. The locket is no longer your concern. I will take care of it from now on." The elf looked like he did not know whether to be relived or not. "Kreacher, I want to ask you about Regulus. Before he made you take him to the cave, was he acting oddly at all?"

Kreacher froze and stared at Rigel with wide eyes, prompting Rigel to ask the question again. "Kreacher is not sure. Master Regulus was very upset before he ordered Kreacher to take him to the cave. Kreacher is being seeing Master Regulus talking to himself and locking himself in his room."

"What did you hear him saying, Kreacher?"

"That he is not being doings it, Master."

"That he would not do it. Hn. Kreacher, I don't think that Regulus really wanted to collect the locket to destroy it. It goes against everything I know about the man. Is it possible that he was being forced?"

Kreacher stared at his new master for a moment in silence. "It mays be. Kreacher tried to tell Master Regulus that he could not destroy magic on locket, but Master Regulus insisted that I take it and leave him."

Rigel nodded and held the locket up. "The magic in this locket was important to Regulus. I think he gave it to you so that he could not destroy it. We cannot know for certain, but I know who this belongs to and I don't think Regulus would ever try to destroy it. Giving it to you when you already told him you could not destroy it was probably his way of protecting it from himself. You don't have to worry about this anymore."

Rigel gave a small sigh in relief when the elf popped away after showing his happiness in not having disobeyed his last master. Rigel wasn't sure if he was correct or not, but it was possible as he had seen how Dumbledore had controlled the muggles that took the places of the Potters. Either way, he now did not have to worry about the elf trying to find some way to destroy his godfather's locket now. Turning it over in his hand, he shrugged and placed it around his neck. The magic within the locket seemed to hum as it came into contact with his own, providing a small feeling of comfort.

Looking at his wristwatch, Rigel noted that it was almost seven in the evening. While he was not tired enough for bed yet, he could feel himself winding down. Deciding against reading the transcripts tonight, he took out his Mokeskin pouch and pulled out the first few packages.

Three hours later, he was absolutely exhausted. Looking around the couch, he could see the piles he had made as he went through each package. He had a stack of books for children as well as adult books of different subjects. The children's books were mostly placed the pile to go to the second hand store, with the exception of some that looked like they may be classics or first editions. He had a pile of toys that were meant for young children, those mostly went into the discard pile as well, though he did keep the collector's items and figurines. The animated dragon figures were quite interesting. Letters were skimmed though and placed in a rubbish pile. He didn't want people to know who the real Boy-Who-Lived was, so he had no intention of replying. The only reason he opened them was that a few had coins in them and other small gifts.

He was confused as to why some people had sent him Firewhisky, but thought they intended for him to use it when he was older, and there were a few other items that were not very child friendly. Someone had sent him a ritual knife made of silver, another had sent him a book on Dark arts, yet another person had sent him a shrunken head that could be used in rituals. All of these were placed in another pile to deal with later.

The smallest pile contained deeds. This was what he had most looked forward to finding. After three hours he had a grand total of one deed in the pile. Sighing as he checked his pouch and found it to be still pretty full, honestly he would probably be doing this for a while.

Pulling the single deed he had found, he looked it over to see where the property was located. The deed was for a small cottage in the village of Escalles which was apparently about 8 miles west of Calais, France. According the deed, the cottage was small, only containing one bedroom and one bath. The letter accompanying the deed said that the cottage was perfect for a quiet getaway as it was fairly isolated.

Putting the deed on the desk along with the transcripts and paper clipping that he had pulled from his pocket, he called Kreacher. When the elf popped into the room, Rigel explained what each pile was for and instructed the elf only remove the piles that were to be discarded, the rest would remain until Rigel knew what he was going to do with them.

After making sure that the elf understood, Rigel got directions to the master bedroom, which was on the floor above, and made his way there. He barely looked at the room before he stripped down to his underclothes and fell into the bed. Rigel gave a small sigh of contentment as he took in the sent of freshly laundered sheets and closed his eyes.

Today he had shed the fake life he had been forced into. It had been his first day that he could actually acknowledge who he was while not sitting in his room alone. He no longer had to deal with the Dursleys or with expectations of being Harry Potter.

He was Rigel Lestrange, and he had had a very productive day.

First floor=second floor to Americans. I used a blueprint found online when describing #12.

The room Ginny and Hermione shared in cannon is where I placed the Library.


End file.
